Non- fiction submission:
Where’s the Bull?
“Therefore let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (Hebrews 4:16 NASB).
“Yes, this is Austin at Animal Control.”
“My name is _________. I live at _______ Ave, in front of the Christian Church. A bull is running loose in our backyard! Please come quickly!”
“All right, ma’am, we’ll have someone there right away.”
“Hurry, please,” I choked through panicky tears. Then I called my husband.
“Honey, a bull from next door has broken through our fence! Can’t you do something? I called Animal Control, but they haven’t arrived yet.”
“I’ll be right there, sweetheart. Don’t panic.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I tried to pray through the sobs. We’d only been married a few months. Our recent move to a suburb of Santa Maria on the California coast excited us. The two and a half acres our church and parsonage sat on what felt like a ranch to us city kids. At first, we had thought it sweet that the Catholic priests at the rectory next door allowed 4-H’ers to keep their animal projects in their pasture. Now I wondered if crazy was a better word to describe their neighborliness.
My imagination running amuck, I envisioned the headline: “Twenty-year-old Minister’s Wife Mauled by Runaway Bull.” Although I’d never met a bull in person, I’d seen enough movies to know if you came anywhere near one, especially if you were wearing red, you’d better get right with God.
“Where’s the bull?” the Animal Control men asked when Hubby answered the doorbell. He bravely led them around to the backyard. They were ready with large sticks, to protect themselves in case the bull decided to charge, and to herd it back to its own yard. These men were heroes in my eyes. I was already planning the letter to the editor I would write in their honor.
Last weeks contributor was David Stearman. David's first novel, Hummingbird, will be released this June by Trestle Press. You can find and friend David on FB.